Slowly he staked his pray through the primordial forest. Across stream and brush, nothing could stop me from catching my quarry. The dark forest created by my imagination was really King’s Point Park and the prey was a scared squirrel I was chasing. For that moment, it was real, the danger, the magic, and the mysteries or this ancient wood. More importantly, I was a great warrior facing unknown dangers. The sad truth was that I was a kid who was picked on at school and home.
I would keep my vivid fantasies to myself and I would fade into dream states during the day. My parents said I didn’t pay attention. My teachers thought I was bored and didn’t put enough effort into school work. My sister just thought I was a freak. Still with all the anger and fear mongering from older people, my dreams were always mine, and they were powerful! Each night I fought courageously against unyielding forces and found a way to gain victory. This somehow gave me strength to endure the daily humiliation and violence. But with the endurance was fear, and it was ever present.
Then came the dream medallion. In a children’s movie, there was an old Shaman teaching a young boy about his dreams and fantasies. He said if you dream all the time, it takes the power out of your dreams. If you focus on having fewer dreams, and making the ones you have more important, you will give your dreams power and they will care for you. He said the secret was a “Dream Medallion.” Focus on having this jewelry in your dreams, and allow it to be all powerful in the dream world. Practice by fantasizing during the day of the magic of the Medallion and give it power.
The idea connected with me and I practiced. For a long time, there was no change, in fact, my concentration got worse. It was the night before a test in social studies, and I had studied a great deal but felt like I was going to fail anyway. That night I had a dream and it was pure magic. I was in Philadelphia and it was 1776. I could smell the stink, I could feel the hot air on my skin. I walked into the Constitutional Congress and observed. They were drunk just like my cousin had told me and al of them were sweating profusely.
I woke with a profound knowledge of the signing of the Declaration of Independence and I received my first “A” ever in school. The teacher even complimented me for the details in my essay. IT WORKED! My dreams had become powerful and I realized that I could use them effectively. I used the technique when reading, I would take an imagination walk through the material to become familiar with the environment. It turned out to be an excellent skill for reading and my skill improved exponentially. I used my massive power of dream magic in my daily life, and things became sunnier.
In college, the dreams became both sage and prognosticator. I started dreaming that papers were due a full week earlier than they were really due. To deal with this, I would write my papers early so I wouldn’t let the dreams freak me out. The one class I failed to study for and the final that I totally forgot about when it was scheduled, was the reoccurring warning of my dream world. In my senior year of college, I didn’t miss anything, a class, a project, homework, and tests. Everything had come together to create a efficient formidable method of producing my highest level of work.
As I have aged, dreams have been good to me. Many of the stories I write, I dream first, it’s amazing how my mind collects various inputs form my life and amalgamates them into a snazzy unpredictable fantasy. My dreams also serve of a reminder that life is short. To wake up with tears in my eyes from a sad dream, is a difficult way to start a day or to wake in the middle of the night. I truly believe that our dreams serve us to guide us to the end we must all face. They remind us what is finest in life and show us how things could be. My dreams tell me that life is fleeting and to drink in every experience like its my last.